


Fandot Creativity Night (24.09.2016)

by Cee5



Series: Fandot Creativity Night [1]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cee5/pseuds/Cee5
Summary: Stories in fifteen minutes from the Fandot Creativity Night.





	1. Blanket

Douglas walked through the cabin to retrieve yet another bottle of Talisker he had managed to win from last Birling day and as he was getting up - not surprised no one had figured out the secret pocket he had installed under one of the passenger seats - he saw it: a blanket. Crumpled, dark brown, kicked under the seats near the rear of the plane. 

Arthur was hoovering the cabin and Douglas wondered if he should just leave the blanket there and go home. He decided instead to put the whiskey bottle back in its hiding place and then picked the blanket up.

“Arthur?” He asked, making himself be heard over the noise of the vacuum cleaner. 

Arthur mumbled an answer and with the vacuum cleaner still working peeked through the open door, an inquisitive look on his face. 

Douglas showed him the blanket, a blanket that did not belong there, on GERTI’s floor.

“Is this yours?”

For some reason Arthur blushed and then turned off the vacuum cleaner, abruptly. 

“That’s Skip’s.” 

“Martin’s?”

“Yes. He always carries it in his van, he must have forgotten it here.”

Douglas frowned, amused.

“How do you know that?”

Arthur opened his mouth to answer but before he could even think of an excuse a flustered Martin entered the plane. He looked at both Arthur and Douglas, standing there, then his eyes met the blanket. 

“Ah, yes. That is mine.” He snatched the blanket from Douglas’ hands. Then he waved goodbye and left, before Douglas could ask any questions.

“Arthur,” Douglas started, “Where were you last night after we landed?”

Arthur looked at him, seeing the amused expression forming on Douglas’ face. 

“I…” Then something Martin had said the night before, as they snuggled on GERTI’s floor after everyone left, came to his mind. “I know your new hiding place.”

He wasn’t even sure why he was saying that, Douglas seemed to understand it even before he did.

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

Arthur smiled. Douglas retrieved the bottle of Talisker again and left the plane, winking. That was a deal. 


	2. Hair

Douglas stretched his arms above the head, tired. The week before Chistmas was always the busier week of the year. Somehow, Carolyn always managed to fit extra trips between the trips they had already planned, most of the time acting as if a "susprise trip on Christmas" was the present the pilots longed for the whole year. Sometimes, she really brought him up the wall.  
He had no idea what led him from his way in the direction of the hotel into entering that hair salon. Maybe it was the cosy feeling he got when he looked at his own reflection in the window and saw, inside, a lady about his age sitting alone in a chair, looking ahead to nothing in particular, as if contemplating life, the Christmas lights creating a beautiful halo around her.  
She got up when he walked in and Douglas realised that she was not a costumer, but the only hairdresser at that time. Her hair was tied in a beautifully crafted ponytail, and her tired eyes seemed to liven up at his sight.  
"Can I help you?" She asked, and Douglas couldn't help but smile. He didn't really need a hair cut. What he needed now was a good massage and maybe even a glass of wine. Of course, he didn't share these thoughts with her. He sat on the chair she indicated and explained to her that he only needed a slight trim.  
She smilled, put a towel around his shoulders and let the water run, setting the right temperature, then started to wash his hair. As she ran her fingers through his hair, washing it thoroughly, he closed his eyes. Her voice woke him from a sort of light slumber just a few minutes later.  
"You're ready, you can move to that other chair."  
There was no ring on her finger, just an expectant look on her face, mirroring his.  
"Would you like to have dinner with me? I know a fantastic place nearby."  
If she was taken aback by the invitation, she recovered fast, looked at her watch and then nodded.  
"I'd love to."  
He didn't feel like being alone after all. He didn't need a haircut either, although he would very much like to feel her fingers on his hair again, maybe later on, after dinner and over a few glasses of fine wine.  
He removed the towel from his shoulders, composed himself and extended a hand in her direction.  
"But..." She asked "Shouldn't we take care of your hair first? It's completely wet."  
Douglas smiled. She took the towel from his hands, skin against skin and, ever so gently again, rubbed it against his scalp, drying his hair. He took her hand on his, once again getting rid of the towel and dropping it over some chair, and then led her out of the salon.


	3. Movies

Carolyn was, once again, pretending to be bored when, in fact, the movie Herc had chosen for their evening was quite an interesting one. Not one of those romantic comedies he liked so much, nor the boring ones he usually ended up sleeping halfway through when he was watching them at home. It was maybe because the movie was so interesting that it took her so long to recognise two figures sitting a few chairs back. 

When she looked behind her again, carefully not to be seen, to make sure she had seen it right, they seemed to be whispering something to each other and then they went into a silent fit of giggles. It was them, no doubt at all. 

Carolyn smiled, and wondered for how long it had been going on. A first look at them might just suppose they were a couple of friends sharing a movie, but a more attent look would make it perfectly clear that there was a closeness akin to lovers in the way their bodies seemed to lean, almost instinctively, into each other. 

If they wanted to keep it a secret, it was fine with her. She would not be the one to break it apart, it was none of her business after all. It was amusing, though. Very amusing. 

She waited for Herc outside the theater as he left to get their car. Concealed by the crowd, Martin and Douglas didn't see her as they walked away, hand in hand, Martin slightly uptight and fiddling with his partner's fingers, Douglas smugly walking with his lover's hand in his. 

Only a few months later, as she walked in on them pecking each other on the lips as they were preparing to take off, did Carolyn admit to know it all for a very long time. Then, she had Arthur put a candle on the cheese tray, to set the mood. Unlit, of course.


	4. Decision

Martin tried to take a good look at himself on the small mirror that Carolyn had installed in the portacabin, for such an ocasion. She had lost a bet with Herc and so they had all been flying him the whole week, from London to Edinburgh and then back to London. Today, though, was an important day. It wasn't only Hercules, but a bunch of other pilots as well, who were coming to town for a bachelor party. Carolyn was not amused, but had given in gracely, prefering the expense of the trips to the shame of not keeping her promise regarding the bet. Martin, on the other hand, felt like this was his chance to finally have a go at giving his CV to one of the pilots. Whoever he hit better off with on this last short trip. 

He couldn't get hold of the knot on his tie. It was all wrong. He had done it just to undone it again three times already and yet, something he usually had no trouble with, seemed like an impossible task. It was as if his fingers were useless. That was what Douglas heard him mumbling to himself as he entered the room. 

"Useless. Just useless."

Douglas frowned.

"What is the matter? You look rather distressed."

Douglas didn't usually walk on egg shells when he talked to him, but the fact that he could see his distress upset Martin more than he liked to admit. He wanted to be assertive, calm. Relaxed. He sighed.

"I can't get hold of this," he admited, pointing at the crooked piece of cloth around his neck, "It's like my hands are useless."

Douglas stopped a beat, looking at him. Not an expression Martin was used to see on his face, a lot softer, almost endearing. Then, his expression hardened, back to its usual self, and he took a step forward. He removed Martin's tie from his neck, shaking his head, and said something Martin couldn't understand.

"What?" Martin asked, trying to scrutinise his first officer.

"You are not useless, nor are your hands, I am certain." he blushed slightly, clearing his throat. 

Douglas hands were soft against the collar of his shirt and Martin raised his chin, letting him work the knot. Then, when that was ready, Douglas patted the tie - his chest - and looked at him. Martin's eyes found his and they lingered there for a moment. Their bodies were very close. 

It was Douglas who broke the stare, stepping back. 

"Maybe you should give your CV to Herc."

It took Martin a moment to adjust to the shift in the conversation.

"You think?"

"Of course. He won't object, not after all this time. You know the man quite well by now."

Martin nodded. Douglas picked up a few things from the desk, took a last, longing, look at him and then left. 

Martin looked in the mirror again, the tie perfectly tied around his neck. He could give his CV to Herc, in fact, it wasn't such a wild idea. The thing is, he wasn't sure he wanted to anymore.


	5. Relieved

Theresa was brushing her hair in front of the mirror, absentmindedly. Her bedroom was cosy, comfortable without being too crammed with furniture. A large bed, a fluffy white rug, and the dressoir she sat at now, with the beautiful mirror she had crafted herself hanging on the wall. She loved working with her hands, even if her father had always said that that was not a princess' way to behave, not a thing for her to do. Still, she had managed to sneak out of her duties for a few months to learn how to work with wood, and glass and just anything she could sign up for. Except, of course, becoming a pilot. 

For many weeks, nonths even, she had been afraid. Afraid Martin might slip away between her fingers; not only because of MJNAir, but because she was a princess and, well, had duties and, according to her father, a reputation to keep. She had fallen in love with his ways slowly. Neither of them was perfect. Martin was smug at times, clumsy too. He took himself too serious but, as it was, he made her laugh, and he loved her with such honesty that it was hard not to feel the same way about him. Still, she was relieved to know that he had had the courage to follow his dreams, to leave MJNair behind in the pursuit of what he always wanted and that, in the process, he managed to move closer to her. 

She sensed a shift in the lights, her hand resting at the tips of her hair, still holding the brush and she saw it: through the mirror, Martin staring at her, as he fiddled with the lightswitch, slowly making the shadows in the bedroom bigger. He was still wearing his Captain's hat, at her request, boxers and his open shirt but that was it. Even in the half-light she could see him blushing. He took a few steps forward, she placed the brush carefully back into one of the drawers, and got up. Slightly taller than him, his hands were warm as he placed them on her hips, over the nightgown. 

"Like this?" he asked, pointing with the head at himself. 

She laughed.

"Like that. Just like that. Captain."

"Not anymore"

"You're my Captain, now. Mine, and mine only."

It was his turn to laugh now. He picked her up, and she laughed more, both falling on top of the perfectly made bed. 

From now on, she would have someone to call home, and he would have a place to return to. Martin kissed her, and she removed the hat from his head, slinging it across the room. It fell on the floor with a thud.

"My hat!" Martin shouted, almost offended, but as her lips met his again he really couldn't care less about it. 

Later, when she asked him if he regretted his decision, he pulled her closer, holding her in a tight embrace. Relief swapped through her again as he kissed the top of her head, a smile playing on his lips. 

"My only regret is I haven't met you sooner, and I can hardly blame myself for that." 

She snuggled up a bit more, just a bit more. A few nights later, as she opened the drawer to brush her hair as she usually did, there was a ring staring right at her.


	6. Board Games

Martin opened the door of the flat, a package concealed inside an unsuspicious plastic bag. There didn't seem to be anyone around, although he figured Theresa was probably home. He had left her with a kiss in the morning, and a promise to return home two days later, but the last flight was cancelled due to bad weather and, unexpectadly, he was going to spend one more night at home before departing. 

Buying that thing he had bought had been unintentional. He had travelled to the city after being dismissed in order to buy Theresa some flowers, instead of showing up home earlier and empty-handed and, as he walked the city streets, a particular shop got his attention, something strucking his curiosity. He walked in and, in the end, decided to buy that, the thing now concealed in the plastic bag. 

Theresa heard the door, and she showed up in the living room, cleaning her hands. She had been painting, something she used to do in order to relax. 

"Martin!"

There was a mix of hapiness and worry on her face. Happy to see him, worried something might be wrong. He wasn't supposed to be home today. 

"It's all okay," he answered her silent question, "The flight was cancelled due to bad weather. We'll have to fly tomorrow instead." 

She put her arms around his neck; now that she knew all was well, she could enjoy it.

"I was about to take a shower, before dinner. Would you care to join me?" 

Martin smiled. He had found a whole new world of intimacy with Theresa, things he had never tried before. Step by step, he was becoming bolder, all to please her. He stepped back a bit, removing her hands from his shoulders and then he gave her what was inside the bag.

Theresa opened it, tearing the wraping paper apart, curious. It was a game. A board game. But not just any boardgame, a _bedroom_ boardgame. She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. He was looking at her, blushing a bit, unsure.

"So, what do you say? Do you... would you? I mean, if you think this is too much, we don't have to, showering is good too."

Theresa laughed.

"No, this seems like a better idea. Let me get my... suit on." That, obviously, meant off. 

Martin followed her into the bedroom, hoping he had not overdone it this time. Maybe that had been too wild.

Little did he know that, in some lost drawer of their room, a simmilar unopened game was stored, waiting for him to get just ready for it. 


End file.
